


Returning

by imaginary_golux



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:04:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Persephone grows to love him.  Written for Porn Battle IX.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returning

Persephone hated him at first, the cold dark king on his cold dark throne, but he tried so hard – brought her flowers and beautiful clothing, put her throne beside his, gave her anything she asked for, anything at all. And when she asked to go home for a while, to comfort her mother, he looked so very sad when he said yes that she promised to come back again, and was surprised at her own pleasure at the look of amazed joy on his dour face.

When she returned, he had made a garden for her in his dark kingdom, and brought the loveliest and kindest of the dead to serve her, and strewn flowers through her chambers. And she smiled when she saw them, and smiled at him, for perhaps the first time ever, and he gave her that same look of amazed joy, which only made her smile more broadly. And for her months below the ground he danced attendance on her, brought her sweet fruits and honey, gave her everything she wished for, and seemed content that she should smile at him, or lay a pale hand on his cold shoulder.

So it went for several years – gods, after all, have different conceptions of time – and over time, she grew to rather like her cold, dark husband with his cold, dark kingdom that he tried so hard to make bright and beautiful for her – white marble in her rooms, and gardens outside her doors, and laughing women in her halls. And so one night she took his hand and led him silently down the long corridors to the rooms he had given her, and showed him the beauties she had put there – perfect flowers and little trees and other such things – and when he had admired them, she put a hand upon his arm and kissed him.

He stood there dumbstruck a moment, and then that look again, the one she had come to love so well: amazement and joy in equal measure, and all for her. She drew him down upon her bed, and kissed him long and languidly, and laughed aloud when his hands fumbled at her robe, clearly unused to undressing women. His fingers were cold against her skin, yes, but so gentle and hesitant, and she laughed again and drew him closer, her cold dark king, and peeled away his robe as well to run warm fingers over cool skin, until he shivered and arched against her touch and made a sound which might have been a whimper, watching her with that same joy upon his face.

It was that look that gave her the courage to push him onto his back and run her hands over his chest and down, to wrap her fingers around his hardness and stroke once, twice, three times until he moaned and threw back his head in surrender. And it was that surrender that made her kneel above him and sink down, accepting him into her at last, finally consummating their wedding, and his cold hands clasped gently on her hips as she rocked atop him, and she knew suddenly – knew that while he was the King of the Underworld, ruler of the dead, she was his Queen, and she ruled him. She leaned forward to kiss him, and he kissed back hungrily, eagerly, joyfully, as though he had never expected this; and then his hands clasped a little tighter and his hips rose up beneath her, once, twice, hard; and he fell back limp upon the bed, panting and staring at her with astonished, thankful joy.

She still left him each year for the world above, for sunshine and rain and flowers growing wild; but each year she returned, and each year he greeted her with flowers and smiles and loving, joyful touches. Her mother does not understand why Persephone insists upon returning to the cold kingdom of the dead, but Persephone knows that Hades’s hands are gentle, and his smiles kind, and the look of amazed joy on his face has not faded in all these many years, and she loves him.


End file.
